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In response to a text from Roche, Major swallowed the tracker that would allow Fillmore Graves to follow him to his location, and drove to a mall parking lot, where Roche, in a black van, was waiting for him. He handed Major a black hood. "Here, put this on."

"Really, dude?"

"Really. I told you, these guys don't mess around." The usually cocky Roche was subdued and nervous, glancing around him constantly. "Come on. Put it on and get in the van."

"Okay, man." Major made a show of reluctance that wasn't entirely feigned as the hood came over his head, blurring sight and sound.

They drove for a long time, twists and turns so Major couldn't have kept track of where they were going even if he'd been familiar with this part of Seattle. At last the van stopped. Roche's door opened and closed, and then Major's. Roche helped him out of the van and walked him into a building, then gave him a shove, forcing him to walk forward on his own, barely able to see enough in front of him to avoid tripping on anything that might be in his path. He nearly stumbled over a chair, and Roche forced him down into it, cuffing his wrists to the arms of the chair. "Uncool, Russ," Major called out. "I thought I was a valued employee. This seems like overkill."

Major could see people coming toward him now, not much more than shadowy shapes dimly seen through the hood.

"We're here," Roche said, plucking the hood off Major's head.

The first thing Major saw was the light directly above him. He blinked as it stung his unprepared eyes and looked away. "That was fun."

Once he could focus, he finally was able to see the faces of the men in front of him. All Asian, none of them anyone he recognized.

The one who appeared to be the leader said, "Sorry about the bag. It's just … until we get to know each other."

"You the guy in charge?"

"That's him," Roche confirmed.

"Name's Major. I'm ready to be rich. Russ says you're looking for a man who has Chase Graves' ear to make all your dreams come true."

Leader guy smiled. "Whoa, there. You may be rich before you leave this room, but not until I know I can trust you."

Loudly, Major called out, "I'm also ready to be uncuffed and offered a drink."

Roche and the leader looked at each other, appearing mildly entertained by Major's chutzpah, but not as impressed as he'd hoped they'd be. "Patience, dude," said the leader. "First, you gotta pass a little test." He held his hand out for a bowl handed to him by one of his minions. "This brain is from a Russian gang member, a rival, who we captured and questioned. Every time he told a lie, we gave him the old bzzzt." He laughed, finding himself hilarious.

Major forced a smile. He wondered if there was a way to counteract a brain's effects so it wouldn't take hold when you ate it. He'd have to ask Ravi sometime, if he was ever on speaking terms with any of his friends again.

"We did this for weeks," the leader continued, "until his brain was rewired. By the time he died, he was, like, literally incapable of lying. Just like you're about to be." He popped the top on the bowl and took out a frozen chunk of blue brain. "It's never failed us." He held the chunk of brain out to Major like a parent feeding a toddler. "Mmm, mmm, mmm."

Major didn't open his mouth, trying to sell his reluctance as annoyance.

The leader kept his smile as he asked, "Am I going to have to break your teeth with a hammer to get you to eat this, or will you be a big boy?"

"I'll eat it," Major agreed. "Just seems … inhospitable, that's all." He opened his mouth and allowed the chunk of brain to be deposited inside.

"Now chew. Annnd swallow. You know how to swallow, don't you, just close your lips and—"

Major made a show of chewing and swallowing, opening his mouth to show it was empty as he loudly interrupted the leader. "Now what?"

"Now we wait. And then we'll find out whose side you're really on."

"Bring it on."

So they waited, Major interjecting the occasional snarky comment, playing up his boredom, pretending to have no secrets. They kept asking him innocuous questions like what sports teams he rooted for, and gradually he found that when he tried to lie what came out of his mouth wasn't what he'd intended to say. So. The brain was going to work, and he was going to spill everything. Well, he might as well lean into it, then, and hope to get as much information out of their rising anger as possible … and hope, as well, that they wouldn't just kill him as soon as they discovered he'd played Roche like a fiddle.

"Tell me," the leader said, his smile disappearing for the first time. "Have you ever considered getting into bed with Chase Graves?"

Major decided to take the question literally. Or the brain decided it for him. He was no longer sure which. "Has it crossed my mind? Yeah. I mean look how he's built. Where does he even find the time to work out? But hey, it's not like I have pictures of Chase Graves taped up in my locker."

Roche laughed. "Okay, I think it's safe to say the truth brain's kicked in."

"Then let's get right down to it. Are you with us or Fillmore Graves?"

The answer spilled out without conscious thought. "Fillmore Graves. Duh." He kind of enjoyed seeing the superior look fade out of the leader's eyes, to be replaced with alarm and irritation as the leader turned on Roche. Major went on. It felt freeing, after holding back his real thoughts for so long, just to let them fly. "Oh, yeah. I've been pretending to be on your side the whole time, just playing Russ, gaining his trust, hoping he'd eventually bring me to you. Which he did, because he's not exactly Ivy League material. Like, maybe Brown, if he's got connections."

Roche charged Major at that, as thin-skinned as he was stupid and greedy, and the leader caught him, holding him back.

"It's actually kind of interesting how he did it." Major wasn't sure if he could stop himself from talking, so he leaned into the flow of words. "See, Chase and I figured that if he announced that I was in charge of deciding whether or not to buy the fancy security measures, which never even existed, by the way, we just made them up, then Russ would bring me to you so you could convince me to veto it, which is exactly what Russ did, because Russ is a, um … Oh, what did Chase call him? 'A dolt.'"

Roche was angry, but he was also scared, too scared to challenge Major, and the leader had his back to Major, seeming to be trying to decide which one of them to kill first.

Major grinned and leaned back in his chair. "So, yeah. Short version, I'm here to take you down."

"AJ, I had no idea," Roche said urgently. "I swear."

"Shut up! Well—" the leader barked, turning back to Major. The smile was back on his face as he assumed he was on top of the situation. "Too bad things won't work out the way you planned, Major. Looks like you'll never get that gondola ride with Chase Graves in the Grand Canal." He drew a gun, cocking it, and aimed it at Major's head.

Major talked fast. "Actually, things worked out exactly as I planned because I swallowed a tracking device before coming here. And I've got cotton in my ears."

As he spoke, a canister spun across the floor, bursting with an explosion that was loud to Major even with the cotton in his ears. It was followed by Major's squad storming the warehouse with guns drawn and the leader's entire team, including Roche, getting on the ground as directed by the armed soldiers.

Major grinned. "Hey, guys. Great work! My squad's top-notch. Three of the four of them at least." He winced at that one. Still on truth brain, it seemed.

"Major, zip it," Jordan snapped.

Obediently, Major zipped it. He had talked enough for one night.